


90 Days

by Feytwilight



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2017-12-27 06:19:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feytwilight/pseuds/Feytwilight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DI Alec Hardy has three months to make his decision, however nothing is ever easy in Broadchurch.  Already another spate of murders once more shock the small community and its up to DI Hardy and his troubled Watson to solve them, that is if their hearts don't give out first... Spoilers: Post season 1</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shitfaced

Day 3

 

DI Alec Hardy loosened his tie while searching his reflection in the dusty mirror behind the counter.  He wiped his sweaty palms with a sanitized napkin.  God he looked like hell, no wonder the men called him Shitface.  DS Ellie Miller had seemed surprised to learn that he knew what the lads called him behind his back.  Then again Miller wasn’t the most observant of people.  Her very own husband, Joe, had murdered the poor Latimer boy.  He supposed that wasn’t entirely fair.  It wasn’t as if he himself could really cast stones at anyone.  It had been _his_ wife that had caused the Sandbrook debacle after all.  People often had blind spots where their loved ones were concerned.  He hadn’t even noticed that she had been sleeping with DS Bradley; he’d been a close friend of his…no surprise there.  He felt a knife dig deeper into his heart.  Alec clutched his chest unobtrusively and took a conservative sip of his lager.  Dr. Baxter had told him that his meds and alcohol didn’t mix.  He’d tried to tell Miller that, but she had ignored him and insisted that drinking to forget your troubles was something that people did and that she was going with or without him. 

He knew it was a bad idea.  It was too soon for her to be out and about town; it had only been a couple of weeks since the whole sordid business had come to a head.  She chugged another mug next to him and grinned forcefully, nodding to the music, already completely soused.  She ought to be with her kids at her sister’s house, not here, not yet.  She couldn’t be alone right now.  He looked at the other occupants of the grimy local and saw that they were already shooting her dirty looks and whispering loudly.  They didn’t even bother cupping their hands.  He sighed and nursed his mostly full mug.  In a small town like this, it wasn’t surprising that everyone knew everything and understood nothing.  God, he hated this place.  Miller suddenly turned to him her eyes bright with drink as she said, “Hardy, I love this place!”  She pulled his arm while gesturing around the dingy bar with her other hand saying, “We should come here every night!  I can’t believe I’ve never been to this pub before.”  Hardy pulled himself away from her, hunched into himself and took another small sip of his drink.  He sighed loudly and said,

“I believe it.”  Miller didn’t acknowledge his tone or reply.  Hardy noticed that one of the more grizzled male patrons in the corner seemed to find Miller’s light-hearted exhilaration, offensive; which it probably was under the circumstances...  However, it looked like said Grizzly was going to do something about it.  And no matter how you looked at it, neither Miller, nor himself with his weak heart, were in any condition to prevent him.  He really was not up to being beaten to a pulp.  He got up and tapped Miller’s shoulder, saying, “Oy, Miller, lets get like a duck and get the flock out of here, eh.”  Miller turned to him smiling obliviously as she let him lead her out of the tavern and away from the brewing violence in the air.  She staggered and leaned into him as she said,

“Ho was that a joke?  That’s funny, your funny, you should have a drinky more often Sir.  Do I even still call you Sir, Sir?” Hardy grumbled,

“You better.”  Miller barely seemed to hear him, as she asked,

“Soooo, when are you leaving?  I figured you would have gone by now...  You have to leave too, don’t you?”  He muttered crossly under his breath,

“I don’t _have_ to do anything.”  Miller turned towards him and tried to look him in the eye, but found his face was wavering too much, so she settled for his nose,

“But you are going?”  Hardy looked at her crossed eyes and turned the question back on her asking,

“Are you?”  Miller retorted loudly and flapped her arms,

“I have to don’t I, I can’t let Tom and Fred live in their fa- their father’s shadow.”  She hung her head and leaned into Hardy as he led her over to a bench on the wharf, he said,

“Who said they had to?”  Miller put her head between her legs and her hands on her head and said her voice anguished,

“You’ve seen this town, really seen it, do you think we could continue to live here as if nothing had happened.”  Hardy waited until she looked up at him to shake his head and say,

“No, but that doesn’t mean you should let them scare you off.”  Miller scoffed,

“What do you know about it, this isn’t an easy decision, this is my home, my family lives here, has lived here since forever.  It isn’t easy for me to up and leave all this behind.”  Hardy shrugged and said,

“Then don’t.”  Miller groaned,

“Ahhh, you make everything sound so simple, like I’ve got a choice.  It isn’t as if you have one either, you’re in the same boat as me, you can’t do the job anymore, you know that.”  Alec crossed his legs at the ankles leaned back and looked at the stars as he said in sotto voice,

“I was going to wait to tell you, but you might as well know now.”  Ellie looked at him trying to calm down the buzz she still feeling.  Hardy continued to stare at the stars as if they were all that mattered; he began quietly, “I was given an ultimatum a few days ago.  I am basically untouchable right now.  After the successful conclusion of this enquiry and my name being cleared up in the Sandbrook case, and all the good press I’ve received, it just isn’t good PR to get rid of me at this point.  The powers that be have given me a deadline.  I’ve got three months.  Three months to get myself fit enough to pass the physic.  I need to either go for the bloody surgery, or somehow get miraculously healthy.”  After his shocking pronouncement he glanced at Miller and added persuasively, “I could use a proper DS under me in the meanwhile.”  Miller shouted explosively into the night,

“God, how does everything always end up being about you somehow?”  Hardy raised an eyebrow in response.  Miller’s head began to feel a bit clearer and she asked an impertinent question, “Why do you even want to work here anyway, I thought you hated this town.”  Hardy stated simply,

“I do.”  Miller stared at him and said with emotion,

“Then why, and don’t fob me off with some shit excuse, you own me an upfront answer.”  He nodded considering,

“Perhaps I do.”  His voice took on an uncertain tone, “In all honesty I don’t know why I want to be here.  I’m somehow drawn to this place.  Perhaps it has something to do with me being here as a child, maybe it’s something else, but I feel like I’m _supposed_ to be here, it doesn’t even feel like I have a say in it.”  She nodded thoughtfully,

“That doesn’t make any sense, so it must be true.”  Hardy asked her point blank,

“So will you think on it Miller, think about staying on, here?”  She thought about everything that had brought her to this point, and wondered if maybe she didn’t have something to prove, if not to the town, or her family, or even Hardy, then at least to herself.  So she said the only thing she could,

“…I’ll think about it, but my children come first.”  Hardy nodded decisively,

“I’m sure they do.”  Miller made sure that he understood by saying,

“No promises.”  Hardy replied steadily,

“None.”  Miller nodded tiredly, her eyelids sagging, more than ready to go home and fall asleep.  Hardy looked over at her fondly and almost smiled to himself.


	2. Give The Boy A Hand

Day 4

 

            _She ran down the stony beach, the waves chasing her but not daring to keep up.  She turned to him then, her sandy hair flying around her, and called him to join her, her voice echoed strangely, “Alec, come on!”  Then she ran happily into the waves; the young girl disappearing into the foaming depths…_

Alec Hardy awoke without a sound, long used to trapping his nightmares in his throat.  He grasped at his chest, feeling his heart thud too hard, too painfully.  He reached for the pills on the table next to him and ate two, swallowing dryly.  There were too many things that he was becoming used too.  This hotel for instance, it was starting to feel far too familiar, he should probably do something about that.  But first, he had to get over to work.

            On the way to the station Alec’s mobile rang.  He pulled over to the side and searched around for the source.  He would have gotten a Bluetooth setup, but he wasn’t all that certain he could figure out how to use it.  And it just looked peculiar, people talking to midair.  His daughter would probably know how to use one.  He finally found the phone under his seat and answered brusquely, “What?”  An older male voice said hesitantly,

            “Sir?  It’s Bob.”  Hardy asked back,

“Who?”  The voice faltered again as it said,

“Er, you know… PC Bob Daniels?”  Hardy congratulated Daniels by saying,

“Bully for you.”  Daniels continued,

“Er…Sir, there has been a…an incident-you have to get over to the Easthill cemetery right awa-.”  Hardy interrupted,

            “The cemetery?  What are you talking about?  What kind of incident?”  Daniels said slowly,

            “Well there’s a, a…body.”  Hardy asked,

            “A…body?  Do I have to bloody repeat everything?  Are you trying to say that a dead body has been discovered at the cemetery?”  He added in a low mutter, “How original.”  Daniels responded to the question,

            “We aren’t entirely sure Sir.  It was found in the Easthill cemetery under an hour ago, it, ah, you _really_ have to see it for yourself, Sir.”  Hardy snarled,

                                                                                                                      

            “Useless, the lot of you!”  Then he sighed loudly, and said, “I’ll be there.”  Daniels replied, relieved,

            “Yes, Sir.”  After ending the call, Hardy wondered what he should do next.  He couldn’t believe there was already another dead body on his patch.  This town was turning into a regular Whitechapel.  After notifying his superiors, he made his next call with a bit of unusual trepidation. 

>>> 

Ellie Miller, Detective Sergeant, Mother of two, and wife of a confessed child-murderer, slept soundly for once, the alcohol of the previous night having had at least one positive effect.  Her mobile rang loudly from the pocket of a jacket that lay on the floor at the foot of the couch she sprawled on.  She fell off the narrow sofa as she reached for it.  She answered tired and grumpily while rubbing her backside,

            “Y’ellow?”  DI Alec Hardy’s voice answered back,

            “Miller?  It’s Hardy, I know you said that you would think about coming back, and I meant to give you time, but I need you right now.”  _I need you._   He never needed her, she must be dreaming.  Her clouded head could only churn out,

“Eh?”  She could hear her boss struggling to prevent himself from saying something rude, he said instead,

            “Miller a body has been discovered, possible homicide, and there isn’t anyone else as qualified as you to help me head it up.”  So it probably wasn’t a dream then, she wasn’t sure that was a good thing.  The word, homicide, worked its way through her fogged brain, stunning her,

            “Homicide?”  Hardy said with annoyance,

            “Miller, You’re echoing.”  Miller shook her head, even though Hardy couldn’t see her, and immediately regretted it.  She held her swimming head as she tried to make certain she understood what Hardy was saying,

            “Sorry, but you mean we have _another_ murder in _Broadchurch_?!”  Hardy said matter-of-factly,

            “Who knows, could be, will you come?”  Miller wasn’t sure what to answer.  She barely remembered the conversation of the night before, something about ducks and Hardy staying in Broadchurch for another three months.  However she did remember that feeling she had felt when he had said he needed her, and maybe that was enough...  Besides, since Joe was being incarcerated until his trial, she had wanted to be out doing something useful.  In truth, she still felt guilty, as if what her husband had done had been her fault somehow, and maybe it had been at that.  Beth had been right to accuse her, wasn’t she a copper, a mother?  She was haunted by those words, the same ones she had cruelly said to Susan Wright thrown ironically, right back at her.  How could she _not_ have known!?  Maybe working again, helping people, helping Hardy, would help to alleviate some of her guilt.  It made the decision an easy one to make.

            “I…Yes, where is it?”  Hardy failed to hide the sudden relief in his voice,

            “Easthill cemetery.”  Miller said,

            “I’ll be there.”  Ellie checked to make sure the call had ended.  Then she raised herself from the floor with a groan.  Lucy Stevens stood behind the sofa and said with resignation,

            “So you’re going in.”  Ellie got up and looked at her and said,

            “Yes.”  Lucy shook her head slowly,

            “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”  Ellie stood her ground and said firmly,

            “It’s not up to you sis.”  Lucy said,

            “No I suppose it isn’t.  You’re leaving the kids here of course.”  Ellie said with a sharp breath,

            “Yeah.”  Lucy said,

            “Right.”  Lucy paused, and then said, “You know I feel wretched about this whole sorry business.  But I’m glad we’ve gotten close again.”  Ellie mustered up a small smile,

            “Same here.  I did miss you Luce.”  Lucy smiled back saying,

            “Yeah, well, that call sounded pretty serious, so you had better get going.  I’ll see you later, be back for dinner.”  Ellie said,

            “I will and Lucy?”  Lucy asked,

            “What?”  Ellie answered simply,

            “Thanks.”  Lucy smiled and turned her head,

            “Forget it.”  Ellie started moving towards the spare bedroom of the house,

            “I’m just going to go say goodbye to the kids.”  Lucy nodded.  Ellie entered the room and saw her children still sleeping.  She moved to Tom’s bed first.  She didn’t like to wake him, but she didn’t want him to find her suddenly gone later.  He still hadn’t gotten over his Father’s imprisonment, and in particular the reason for it.  She hoped he would eventually.  Children were usually resilient.   She tapped his shoulder.  He blinked open his eyes and turned to her,

            “Tom, I’m just going to go out for a little while.”  His voice was tiny and tired as he said,

            “Are you coming back?”  Her heart broke a little as she answered in the lightest voice she could manage,

            “Of course I will darling, I’ll be back before you know it.”  He said,

            “OK.”  Tom went back to sleep as she went over to her little Fred in his crib.  She rubbed his head of curls and whispered in his sleeping ear,

            “Bye Fred, I’ll be back soon.”  He stayed asleep, his little chest moving up and down in soft breaths.  Ellie left the room and closed the door gently.  She moved to her suitcase, got her clothes and quickly showered and dressed.  She yelled to Lucy while using one hand to brush her hair into some semblance or order, and the other to open the door and get her car keys from her bag,

            “See you later Luse.”  Lucy’s voice sounded after her,

            “See you soon Ellie.”  Miller drove off, heading for a crime scene, and who knew what else.

>>> 

            The Easthill cemetery was located on a hill, to the East of Broadchurch…  Hardy figured the people of Broadchurch were quite the clever lot when it came to naming places.  He’d parked at the bottom of the hill and walked up the narrow footpath to the top.  He huffed, but he was determined to get up there even if it killed him.  Miller met him halfway.  She didn’t even breathe hard; he tried not to hold that against her.  “So Miller,” he huffed, “you made it.”  She smiled thinly at him,

            “I did.”  They continued trekking, Miller slowing her gait to match his own. When they finally made it to the plateau at the top, Hardy stopped and put his hands on his knees, needing a brief breather.  Miller asked concerned, “Sir?”  Hardy straightened up and glared at her, as if daring her to contradict him he said,

            “I’m fine.”  Refusing to rise to the bait, she said,

            “Never said you weren’t.”  They walked together to the tent that was beside some of the larger tombs and gravestones, nearer the center of the cemetery.  They walked past the SOCO’s and other detectives and constables.  Hardy strutted past them with his head held high.  Miller tired to emulate his stride and attitude.  She felt their eyes upon her though.  The Internal Investigations Division had cleared her of her involvement in the Latimer case.  She hadn’t known about or covered for her husband.  Everyone knew that.  But she still felt their eyes like an oil slick on her skin; she shuddered, the words clamoring once again in her head, _“How could you not have known.”_   Hardy grabbed her arm suddenly as if needing to lean on her to keep going.  He muttered under his breath, “Keep your feet, Miller.”  Then he said in his normal bark of a voice, “This terrain was meant for a bleedin’ goat.”  Somehow it helped, his words, his grip, it helped keep the eyes off of her and quiet the words pounding in her head.  She stood up straighter and bent with him to go under the bone white SOCO tent.

            Hardy froze as soon as he entered the tent, so Miller had to force her away around him as he cursed and shouted, “Seriously, this was what all the fuss was about, the body of a _dog_!”  A huge wet mound of stinking gray molted fur lay in the middle of the tent.  It looked like it had probably been a wolfhound.  Hardy was about to walk right back out of the tent in disgust, when Miller saw something else; she started and said hurriedly,

            “Wait Sir, look at the leash.”  Hardy stopped and looked down at the leash that was still attached to the dog’s red collar.  He followed it to the handle and gasped out loud,

            “A human hand?!”  A cold dead hand, neatly severed at the wrist tightly gripped the dead dog’s leash.


	3. Is There A Doctor In The-?

Day 4…

 

            “A hand?  An actual severed hand!?  What kind of messed up town is this?”  Hardy shook his head in disbelief.  SOCO Brian Young, his white suit crinkling around him said annoyed,

            “Hey, I live here!”  Hardy sniffed while saying,

            “Case in point.”  Miller, still staring horrified at the mess on the ground asked hopefully,

“Could it have been an animal of some sort?”  Hardy snorted and said,

“This place isn’t _that_ rural, there aren’t many animals around that could have taken down a human adult and a wolfhound.”  He added thoughtfully, “Maybe a werewolf...”  Miller said absently,

“Har har.”  Brian Young answered Ellie’s question, ignoring Hardy’s comments entirely,

“This was a deliberate cut, made without a doubt by a human agency.” Miller groaned and left the tent suddenly, while Hardy stared intently at the remains.  Brian looked like he wanted to follow after her, but returned his attention instead to his study of the canine corpse and partial human cadaver at his feet.  The sounds of dry retching assaulted their ears.  Hardy grimaced, wrestling with himself, and then left the tent.  Miller was bent over, one hand on a weathered gravestone the other holding her knee.  She wasn’t the only copper there who was looking green about the gills.  The rest of the milling crowd found something more interesting to look at as Hardy went over to her.  He put out a hand gingerly towards Ellie’s heaving back.

“You alright?” he asked.  Ellie steadily stopped dry heaving and turned towards him, wiping her mouth on a sleeve,

            “Sorry, it…I’m just not used to this sort of thing, a dead body is one thing-we’ve had plenty of those, but that…  That’s just sick!”  Hardy looked off to the side saying,

            “Can’t argue with you there.”  She asked wonderingly,

“How do you do it?  Doesn’t it affect you?”  She stopped herself and muttered, “I suppose you’re used to this sort of thing, no wonder you’re such an asshole.”  Hardy ignored the insult and tried to give her an honest answer to her distress, which oddly bothered him.

“No one ever gets used to the gore, the stickiness, the total disregard for the human condition, not really.  It’s your focus that changes.  Instead of concentrating on the blood, focus instead on catching the messed up sicko that did it, and giving justice for the loved ones left behind.”  Miller thought about that for a moment, turning it about in her head. 

“Is that how you managed to get through the last enquiry?”  She couldn’t bring herself to be anymore specific about the case that had ended up with her husband being the sicko who was brought to justice.  He sighed out,

“Yeah.”  Ellie pulled herself together and nodded decisively,

“Right, let’s get back to work then.”  Hardy nodded and followed her, watching her straightened back enter the tent once more.  Miller tired not to hold her breath.  Young smiled incongruously at her return, the strange tableau of a dog being walked still at his white-bagged feet.

“Yes, well, back to the matter at hand,” Brian Young chucked at his joke.  Miller stared at him.  He cleared his throat and said, “Er, the appendage was made to grip the leash _before_ rigor mortis.”  Ellie asked calmly,

            “Was it severed post mortem?” Young replied,

“Yes, this woman, and we know it is a woman’s hand who was in her early 20’s to late 40’s, died within the past 24 hours.  This limb had also been severed right where it lay.”  Hardy said abruptly,

“So the rest of the body must have lain here for a time.”  Young curtly replied,

“Yes.” Ellie asked tentatively,

“The condition of the…limb tells you that?”  The experienced SOCO answered,

            “Yes, and the blood pooled on the ground around the stump.”  He gestured at the muddied ground as he warmed to his subject and went on.  “The hemorrhaging is consistent with one-day-old remains.  The lividity shows that the limb had not been moved much since it had been severed, and it had been separated from a recently deceased body.  The hand was, no doubt, made to grasp the leash almost as soon as it was severed.  It is therefore likely that the person died right here in this spot.  We’ll get the hand and dog over to pathology to confirm the time of death and see if we can glean anything else.  Unfortunately it rained heavily last night which has given the ground and evidence a good wash and rinse, but we’ll hope for the best.”  Hardy asked,

“Anything else?”  Brian shrugged,

“That’s it.”  Hardy left the tent, Ellie following.  They both took a deep breath of fresh chill air, their breaths puffing into little white clouds.  Hardy moved over to speak to PC Bob Daniels.  Bob got off his radio and asked,

“Sir?”  Hardy asked resignation tingeing his question, 

“Don’t suppose there’s any sign of the rest of the body?”  Daniels shrugged

            “Not as yet, SOCO’s and PC’s have scoured the cemetery, but so far, no joy Sir.”  Hardy’s said to the world at large,

            “Of course not, that would be easy.”  Daniels considered it a personal insult, he grumbled,

            “There’s a lot of ground to cover.”  Hardy barked,

            “Keep at it.  Now who made the discovery?”  Daniel’s hurriedly got out his notebook and glanced at it,

            “A…Mary Shannon.  She’s out by the medic’s, she’s in shock,-.”  Hardy interrupted him,

            “Miller, you go and hold her hand.  You know what to ask, see what you can get out of her.”

            “Why me?”

            “It has to be one of us, would you rather it was me?”

            “Good point.”

            Miller left Hardy to organize the SOC while she went down the hill to the back of the medic van to see the young black woman shivering beneath a blue blanket.  She moved past the medic and approached the woman cautiously.  The woman didn’t meet her eyes; she just stared off into the space in front of her and shivered.  The medic cautioned her to be gentle.  She said she would.  She sat next to her and said gently,

            “Mary?”  She started at the sound of her name and looked wildly around until her eyes trained on Miller.  “Mary, my name is DS Ellie Miller.  I wanted to ask you some questions, if that would be alright?”  Mary’s voice came out surprisingly rough,

            “The others already asked me questions, there wasn’t much to tell.”

            “I know, we just want to go over it one more time, okay?  It’s important.”  Mary nodded jerkily.  “Can you tell me what happened?  How you came across the…remains?”  Mary made a small sound of distress at the word remains.  Then she looked away and said almost robotically,

            “I was going to visit my mother.  It’s her birthday today.  She died three years ago.”  Miller sympathized,

            “I’m sorry.”  Mary continued, not seeming to hear her,

            “I walked up the hill and saw a bit of red.  I moved towards it and saw that it was a leash attached to that poor dog.  Then I noticed the hand.  After that I called 999 on my mobile.  You guys showed up soon after.”  Miller asked,

            “Did you see anyone else up there or around the vicinity?”  Mary stuttered,

            “N-no!”

            “Can you think of anything else that might help us?”  Mary clutched the blanket more firmly about her,

            “No, I’m sorry.”  Miller patted her shoulder awkwardly,

            “It’s alright, you did everything right.”  As she moved to walk away a thought occurred to her, “Wait, one more thing, did you see any other vehicles around the area before calling us?”  Mary looked up at her,

            “Vehicles?”  She thought for a moment looking back on her memories, “I, I think so, a caretaker’s truck over by the entrance.”  Miller moved next to her excitement writ upon her features,

            “Can you describe the truck?”  Mary answered,

            “It was, er, green with Easthill cemetery on it.” 

            “Was there a diver inside it?”  Mary said,

            “I didn’t notice.”

            “Anything else about the truck that you observed?”

            “No that’s it.  Does that help?”  Ellie smiled a small smile to herself and said,

            “Yes, I believe it does.”

 

<<< 

            Back at the station Hardy congratulated Miller during the briefing, “Good job, Miller, you may have found us a witness, or a suspect.”  Ellie smiled, pleased at the rare praise,

            “Thanks.”  Hardy looked at the rest of the team,

            “Alright, any joy finding the caretaker?”  DC Collins said from behind his computer,

            “We’ve found his flat.  He lives fairly close to the cemetery.”  Hardy said,

            “Fine, Miller and I will go check it out.”  Ellie murmured,

“Thanks for asking.”  Hardy continued,

              “Keep going through the graveyard, see if they are any witnesses, check the CCTV in the area, and find out if they are any missing persons fitting the description of a female early 20’s to late 40’s who may or may not have possessed a wolfhound pet.”  He got his coat and left the incident room with Ellie in tow.  She rolled her eyes at him as they went down the stairs,

            “You did it again you know?”  He didn’t turn as he said,

            “Did what?”  Miller said exasperated,

            “Gave all your instructions in an impossible to-do list.”  Hardy turned to her and lifted one eyebrow,

            “Is there another way to get things done?”

 

 

<<< 

The caretaker of Easthill cemetery was an elderly man named, John Mcdermid.  He lived in a flat in a building off the main road a ways.  They had gone in Ellie’s car.  As she drove she pondered the enquiry they were currently on, and the complex miserable man beside her who stared morosely out of the car window and fogged it with his breath.  She was temped to draw a smiling face in the steamed spot.  They traveled in silence until they reached the caretaker’s home.  They noticed that the supposed cemetery truck wasn’t parked in the drive.  Hardy exited the car and leaned on the door after he closed it.   Miller didn’t say anything as Hardy forced himself upright and they went to the flat, where he knocked on the door.  A man groggily answered the door, “Hello?”

            “Mr. Mcdermid, I’m DI Hardy and this is DS Miller.”  The balding man in undershorts and a dingy t-shirt peered at them blearily as he said,

            “So?”  Hardy said,

            “We wanted to know about your whereabouts for the past 24 hours.”  The man said belligerently,

            “I’ve been here, why you want to know?”  Miller tried to be tactful by saying,

            “There has been an incident.”  The elderly man said again,

            “So?”  Hardy began to lose what little patience he had,

            “You are saying you have been here, and not budged from your home for the past 24 hours?”  Mr. McDermid said back while trying to close the door in their faces,

            “That’s not what I’m saying that’s what is.  I’m not feeling too well right now, so if you don’t mind, I’m going back to sleep.”  Hardy asked suddenly,

            “Where’s your truck?”  The man blinked slowly,

            “Truck?”  Hardy said,

            “Yes, the cemetery truck.”  The man opened the door wider and gestured towards the drive,

            “Are you blind, it’s right out front.”  Miller said,  
            “It isn’t.  Take a look.”  The old man left his flat and walked suspiciously to the railing of the balcony.  He peered down at the road and then looked at them in anger,

            “Hey, what trick are you pulling?”  Hardy said,

            “No trick.”  Mr. McDermid growled,

            “Where is it then?”  Hardy asked calmly,

            “I suppose that’s the question, do you mind if we come in?”  The man muttered and went back into his flat leaving the door open behind him.

            “If you must.”  The two detectives looked around at the one room flat.  It was filthy, muddy clothes and leftover takeout’s littered the floors.  Miller was absolutely certain she was going to catch something if they were there for much longer.  Hardy kept his professionalism in check as he asked,

            “When was the last time you saw the truck?”  The old man answered from the collapsed chair that engulfed him,

            “When I parked it, on Monday.”  Miller then asked, while rubbing her nose,

            “And you haven’t seen it since then?”  He snapped back,

            “No, I’ve been ill.”  Hardy moved closer and peered into the man’s bloodshot eyes.  He asked,

            “Out of curiosity, describe your symptoms.”  Mr. McDermid enjoyed the attention to his various sorrows,

            “I slept really deep, and I was nauseous a while and have a pounding headache.”  Hardy moved back from him and returned to looking around the flat as he said,

            “Sound’s like you might have been drugged.”  The man gurgled,

            “Drugged?”  Hardy said,

            “Come down to the station tomorrow and we’ll get this sorted out.  You should probably see your doctor immediately just in case.”  The man asked worriedly,

            “Doctor, Doctor who?”  Miller asked with concern,

            “Don’t you have a regular doctor?”  He said shortly,

            “No.”  Hardy said,

            “Then go to hospital and get yourself checked out.”  The old man said in a much politer voice,

            “Yeah, I will.  Wait, my trucks gone.”  He looked up at them pitifully, “Can you give me a lift?”  Miller said in an undertone,

            “If I must.”  As the man made to follow them out she said loudly, “Put some proper clothes on first!”

<<< 

            After dropping off McDermid at the hospital.  They had mutually agreed that he was more of a possible victim than suspect.  “It’s certainly been an interesting and long day.”  Miller was dropping Hardy at the station’s carpark.  As he left the warmth of her car he said,

            “It has at that.  I’ll see you bright and early in the morning.”  He tried not to make that a question.  Ellie knew the answer and gave it readily,

            “You will.”  Hardy’s mouth remained determinedly flat as he said,

            “Have a goodnight Miller.”  She said,

            “You too, Sir.”  Ellie added abruptly, “Don’t worry so much, we’ll catch this sicko.”  Hardy said over his shoulder as he walked to his car,

            “I never worry.”  Ellie wanted to laugh as she yelled to him,

            “Never, Sir!”


	4. Raking The Leaves

Day 5 

           

            Alec Hardy stared at the whiteboards in front of him, trying to make sense of them.  The crisp photo of the dead hand filled his mind.  The nails were painted a pale pink and cut fairly short, he wondered if they’d find any clue to the murderer’s identity beneath those perfectly trimmed nails.  He raised his own hand and put it on top of the woman’s engulfing it behind his own.  Ellie had thought he was going home after she had dropped him off at his car, and he hadn’t lied.  This was his home, or as close to it as he was likely to get.  The job, it was all he had.  He still wasn’t sure if he should go for the surgery or not, but it was his only option if he wanted to keep his job.  Then again, it _was_ a 50/50 chance and he’d never been much of a gambler.  He took out his mobile, and scrolled through his contacts.  When he found the one he was looking for he stopped short before pressing send.  It was too late to call her; she’d have school in the morning.  He put it away and looked again at the whiteboard and what little information they had filled in.  He couldn’t help thinking it was strange.  He’d just been given this temporary reprieve to work and all of a sudden up pops another appalling crime.  He was starting to feel that maybe he was under some sort of curse.  He snorted.  _As if he believed in such things_.  He left the whiteboard and went into his office.  All of the dayshift officers had already gone home.  He looked at the time on his computer.  12:07am.  He checked to see if he had any emails, he didn’t.  He swiveled in his chair, leaned back, and eyed the picture behind his desk, a view of the ocean lapping on some beach.  It might have been Broadchurch for all he knew.  It had come with the job, an unwanted keepsake, like everything else.  He reviewed the day so far in his head.  Miller had seemed like she was trying too hard to be exactly the way she was before the Latimer case.  The fact was, she wasn’t, she probably would never be that same person again, not that that was a bad thing necessarily.  He checked the computer again, 12:30am.  He probably wasn’t going to able to solve the entire investigation before morning.   So he left the incident room and went to his hotel, to get some much needed sleep. 

 

>>><<< 

            After spending dinner with her family, Ellie put the children to bed and sat on the sofa flicking through the channels on the TV.  She’d had to bring some of her furnishings from her house over to her sister’s.  Lucy was a chronic gambler among her other vices.  The repo men were always taking her things as collateral.  It was a wonder she hadn’t lost the house yet.  She’d been improving though these past weeks.  Now that Ellie and the kids were in the house she hadn’t gone out as much.  The kids wanted to go home of course.  SOCO had long since finished going through everything, pawing through everything that is.  Their house, hers and Joe’s, they’d picked it out together, a real fixer-upper that they’d never finished fixing up.  She just wanted to sell it.  She couldn’t live there again, there were too many memories tied up with the place, haunted by Danny Latimer’s ghost.  Even though he hadn’t been killed there, his memory and that of her husband’s just made the place uninhabitable in her mind.  She didn’t want to make her children go through any more changes than they had already been burdened with, but she just couldn’t be in that house anymore.  She’d go to the realtors as soon as possible and put it up for sale.  Luce would let her stay till she got rid of it, she was sure.  Her sister really seemed to love having children in her house again.  Ever since her son grew up, she’d just given up on being responsible for herself.  Them being there helped her… 

Miller considered the day she’d had.  She was certain her DI hadn’t gone home after she’d dropped him by the car park.  It was just like him to try to solve the case on his own, as quickly as possible, killing himself in the process.  He was probably staring at the whiteboard right now.  She checked the time on her phone, 12:02am.  He’d really helped her acclimate to the job today.  That was just the sort of person he was.  He’d slap you to get rid of a spider on your face, which you didn’t even know was there.  Then he would refuse to explain why he had slapped you.  He was such a stubborn man, infuriating really.  She really lo…  Her thoughts faded away as she fell asleep the remote falling to the floor out of limp fingers.

>>><<< 

Ellie Miller and Alec Hardy both showed up early to work the next morning.  They’d found the body, or what was left of it.  Broadchurch only had one small wooded area, between the church and a quiet lane of bricked houses.  Miller and Hardy stood close to each other as they looked down at the dead body partially covered in the colourful autumnal leaves.  The young woman might have been pretty before death had paled her skin and whitened her eyes, and the animals had been at the remains.

Hardy looked to Miller, she seemed to be holding up well despite the messy sight before them.  She stared determined not to turn away, looking to see if she could see any signs pointing to the killer from the scene.  She was turning into a proper copper.  If he had accomplished nothing else by coming to this shithole of a town, at least he had managed that.  They both warmed their hands from the coffee that Miller had picked up for them.  Hardy had remembered to act grateful.  DC Collins came up to them while rubbing his arms vigorously and said,

            “Sir, we found the cemetery truck over by the entrance to the wood.  When we searched the forest we found her here, as you see.”  Collins eyes sidled away from the body before them.  Hardy snapped,

            “Right, glad you people were able to get something done properly.”  Collins said nothing, pointedly.  A camera snapped as the SOCO photographer took another photo of the body before they moved it down to pathology.  SOCO Brian Young came from the direction of the path out of the woods.  He said happily to them,

            “Well we’ve found footprints and the tracks of a wheelbarrow, which is how the perpetrator must have gotten the body from the truck to here.”  Hardy began walking back and forth beside the body, gesturing with his coffee as he spoke quickly,

            “So let me get this straight, the suspect goes and drugs our friendly neighborhood graveyard keeper, steals his truck in order to not look conspicuous while dumping a body in a cemetery, one assumes.  Then kills the girl and dog, puts their bodies in the back of the truck, with a wheelbarrow in tow, chops off the hand and leaves it with the dog in a strange tableau, then comes here and dumps the rest of the body and the truck, while taking off on foot.  Is that what we’re saying here?”  Young said grudgingly,

            “That does explain the facts.”  Miller shook her head saying,

            “Well if that’s what happened, this guy sounds like an idiot, he’s obviously panicking.”   Hardy stopped pacing and faced her as he said,

            “I don’t know about that.  At this point, it’s starting to sound like someone made a careful plan, and then the plan went wrong.”  She asked,

            “What do you mean?”  Hardy led Miller away from the scene, and walked towards the cemetery truck parked at the entrance, saying,

            “For instance, drugging McDermid and taking his truck was clever.  The way the hand had been placed and not being seen doing it showed planning and care.  But then leaving the rest of the body here, clumsily covered by leaves next to the truck you had stolen.  That’s more than panicking, that’s just clumsy.  A person doesn’t kill someone, then calmly set up that dog-walking scene, and then panic and dump the rest of the body here like this.  Something went wrong, that much is obvious.”  Miller asked,

            “But that’s good news for us isn’t it?”  He took a hot gulp of his coffee as he said,

            “We’ll see.”  DC Roy Collins had joined them.  He looked back at one of the SOCO putting piles of leaves into a white garbage bag, grinned and said,

            “Sucks to be a SOCO eh?”  Miller turned on him and said,

            “You’re talking out of you ass Roy.”  Hardy seconded her by saying,

            “What she said.  Without our SOCO’s we’d be nowhere, now go and canvass those houses at the opposite end, they probably won’t know anything.”  Collins didn’t meet Hardy’s eyes as he said,

            “Yes, sir.”  Collins stalked off in the other direction toward the lane.  After looking after him for a second Miller said,

            “He’s usually not like that you know.  It’s this enquiry, our town, we just want everything back the way it was.”  Hardy started walking along the path again.

            “I know.”  Ellie looked over at him.

            “That isn’t going to happen is it?”  Hardy looked up through the fall leaves and said quietly,

            “Everything changes.”


	5. A Dog's Breakfast

Day 5…

 

            In the Broadchurch police station, outside an interview room, Hardy stopped Miller before entering and asked, “Why don’t you handle this one?”  Hardy looked down at his mobile and stiffly put it into his pocket.

            “You know, I have interviewed people before.”  Ellie replied in annoyance.

            “I’m sure you have.”  Hardy assured her without a smile.  They entered the bare room together and sat across from John McDermid.

            “Alright, so you’ve finally found my truck have ya?”  Mr. McDermid said as he scratched his balding head.  He sat awkwardly in the metal chair, fidgeting.

            “Yes, Mr. McDermid, although it is currently being held for evidence.”  Miller replied calmly with a sidelong glance at Hardy.  Hardy had his phone out again and was fiddling with it, eyes unfocused, saying nothing.

            “Oh fine, as if I don’t have enough to be going on about, what with being nearly murdered an all, how is I supposed to get to work?  Hell, how am I supposed to be getting home, eh?”  McDermid rambled on in a loud voice.

            “Mr. McDermid you have to understand your vehicle was most likely involved in the death of a young lady.  After we have thoroughly gone through the truck in question you will have it returned to you.  We will, of course, provide transportation back to your home after the interview.”  Miller stated reasonably.

            “Right, well why didn’t ya say so in the first place?”  McDermid asked contritely.

            “Can you tell us what happened on the night of Monday, the 20th?”  Miller asked.

            “Yea, I was home watching East Enders on telly, then I hears a knock on the door.  I goes to answer it and finds this basket with a bottle of wine in it.  No card, I take it and drinks it and that must have been what drugged me.  The villain what did it must have come in afterwards and took my keys.”  John McDermid rubbed his hands together nervously during his description.

            “Do you still have the wine bottle?”  For the first time Hardy looked up from his mobile and asked a question.

            “No its gone, I searched everywhere for it, must have taken that too I s’pose.”  McDermid answered while sniffing.

            “Can you recall anything else?”  Miller asked as she threw a hard look in Hardy’s direction.

            “Nope, ‘fraid not.”  MrDermid responded.

            “Right, we’ve sent SOCO to your house to see if they can find any traces the intruder might have left behind.”  Miller said.

            “That’s not right, without me being there?  Putting your hands all over my things with your grubby mits an all…”  McDermid muttered angrily.

            “Don’t worry Mr. McDermid you can leave now and meet them there at your house.”  Miller reassured him.

            “Right, then, we done?”  McDermid asked bluntly.

            “As soon as forensics can take your fingerprints to rule you out, but next time I would advise you not to drink from suspicious bottles of wine left at your front door.”  Hardy suggested.  Hardy and Miller left the old man with a PC and headed out into the incident room.  Hardy had his hand hovering over the pocket where he had placed his mobile.

            “So, think they’ll find anything at his apartment?”  Miller asked when they reached Hardy’s office.

            “I doubt it, but you never know.”  Hardy said.  Then he sat down at his desk across from her and asked abruptly, “Where are we at?” 

            “We know the girl’s name now, Mary Pacardio, she was a nurse at the local hospital.  We’re going through her friends, family, and coworkers, to see if anyone had a reason to want her dead or knows anything.”  Miller said.

            “We’ll need to make a timeline for the day of her death.  We’ve got to know what she did, where she was, and who was the last person to see her alive.  Have Collins and what’s his name, F-Fred.”  Hardy listed off his fingers quickly.

            “Frank.”  Miller corrected him with a smile.

            “Whatever.  Have them go through all the local CCTV in the area.”  He said.  He gestured towards Ellie to get her coat.  “You and I will go and inform the family and check out her house.” 

            “You did it again.”  Ellie said in a singsong voice.

            “What?”  Hardy asked clueless.

            “Nothing.”  Miller shook her head.  Hardy looked at his mobile again seemingly subconsciously.

            “I’ll be in the Gents, be with you in a tick, Miller.”  Hardy said with a strange look on his face.

“You alright?”  Miller asked concerned.

            “Fine!”  He snapped back, he went out of the office and strode unsteadily to the exit stairwell.  Fine, Ellie knew what fine meant.  She went to follow him to ask him if he was all right.  He might be on the verge of a collapse for all she knew, not that she could tell.  The man looked half dead on a regular basis, but she couldn’t bear to see him in hospital, not again.  When Ellie opened the door to the stairwell she heard a voice.  It was Hardy’s voice.  Her eyes widened as she realized that he was pleading.  “-our Birthdays are coming up Dawn, I just want to talk to her.  Please.  I’ve sent a gift in the mail; no it isn’t a bloody Barbie!  I know she’s too old for that sort of thing.  Just put my daughter on will you?”  He was on a lower level then her in the stairwell, just beyond eyesight, but his voice echoed throughout her soul.  She could imagine to whom he was talking to.  Hardy kept things close to the chest, but she knew he had an ex-wife and fifteen year old daughter.   After a long pause he continued, “Dawn I told the papers not to use your name.  I’ve been silent long enough.  No, I don’t blame you, never have.  I just didn’t want to carry it any longer.” Miller had read about Hardy’s ex-wife’s betrayal during the Sandbrook case and her involvement with another man.  Ellie had also learned from her nephew what Alec had done to protect his daughter from the scandal, taking the blame for Sandbrook, for years.  After a moment he continued desperately, ”Put her on the phone.  Please, its important, I, I might not get another chance.  She won’t answer my calls, and her mail’s switched off.”  His voice broke and so did Ellie’s heart.  “I’m…I’m not well…  She’s at her mates?  Fine, could you tell her I love her.  Will you do that Dawn?”  He must have ended the call.  She could hear him laboring up the stairs breathing harder than necessary.  She debated with herself, whether she should stay and confess to listening in on the man’s personal call or back quietly out the door and pretend she had never heard anything.  She took the cowards way out and left before he had a chance to see her.  She got on her coat and waited for him in his office after making sure everyone was pulling their weight in the enquiry.

>>><<< 

            Miller hadn’t mentioned what she had overheard, and Hardy seemed normal if a little more crotchety than usual.  When they reached the car park Hardy grimaced as he saw the man leaning against a pillar beside his car.  “Oh, God, no anything but you!”  Hardy prayed fervently as his eyes landed on local psychic, Steve Connelly. 

            “I’ve got a message for you.”  Connelly said as he approached them and faced Hardy.

            “I’m certain you do, but I don’t see a stamp, return it to sender.”  Hardy replied sarcastically. 

            “Bugger off.”  Miller agreed, gesturing for him to get lost.  The mere sight of the man brought back all the memories of the Danny Latimer case.  Which in turn reminded her of who had been the cause of the poor boy’s death.  She heard the words once more sounding in her head faintly, “How could you not have known.”

            “She insists I tell you-” Steve Connelly went on persistently.

            “I know, I know, ware the third striking of the bell…”  Hardy said, glancing at Miller and seeing her unfocused gaze.

            “You, better than anyone, should know by now not to ignore me.”  Steve said quietly, threateningly.  He was a large man and he used his weight and height to advantage as he stood before Hardy.  Ellie snapped back to herself as she wondered what he could have meant.

            “You’re like a bloody bad penny, go away.”  Hardy snapped back.  He was not a man to be intimidated.

            “She says her name is Mary.”  Steve said determined.

            “We already know that.  Leave now, or I’m nicking you for waiting police time, and for loitering!”  Miller said angrily.

            “Listen to me!” Steve Connelly yelled.

            “What?”  Hardy asked softly.

            “She said that her dog ate it.”  Connelly said weakly, looking like he knew that this made him sound like an idiot.  Hardy looked like he agreed with him as he said,

            “Well thanks for that bit of wisdom, now shove off.” 

            “Promise you’ll look into it.”  Connelly said.

            “Why should I?”  Hardy asked.

            “Because, I’ll tell you why this place haunts you so.”  He said simply.  Hardy stared at him for a moment.

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  Hardy said gruffly.

            “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”  Steve said as he smiled smugly.

            “Off with you, and don’t come near me or this enquiry again.”  Hardy said.  Steve walked away, satisfied, and the two detectives entered the car and drove off to speak to the family of the victim. 

>>><<< 

            Mr. Rick Pacardio sat at his dining table with his mother and father-in-law and his small daughter.  He stared at the tea in his hands, swirling the teabag in gentle circles.  His mother held his daughter tightly and his father-in-law stared off in the distance.  He had completely shut down since the disappearance of his daughter Mary, which wasn’t that surprising.  They had been close.  Rick didn’t know what to think or feel.  The DI and his sergeant droned on, detailing the events of his wife’s disappearance and subsequent death.  The only words that registered were, Murder, Questions, We’re sorry for you loss.  He vaguely wondered if everyone felt this way when a tragedy like this struck.  He’d have to make arrangements for the funeral.  He glanced at his daughter, he was all she would have now, and how was he going to raise her all by himself?  He wasn’t up to it.  Poor Mary, he loved her, did love her, still loved her.  When she had gone missing he knew she was dead, he’d felt it in his soul.  He just didn’t know what he was going to-

            “Mr. Pacardio?”  DI Hardy asked, wondering if the husband was paying them any attention.

            “Oh, er, yes?  I’ll tell you everything we know.”  Rick Pacardio responded.

            “I apologize for the inconvenience.”  Hardy said.

            “We understand, you’re just doing your job.”  The mother-in-law of Mary Pacardio said while stroking her granddaughter’s dark hair.

            “When was the last time you saw your wife?”  Miller asked Mr. Pacardio.

            “Tuesday night, around 8oclock, she went out to get some milk.  She walked to the nearest petrol station, but what happened after that, I just don’t know.  I should have gone with her.  Ever since that boy was murdered by that sick bastard…  I knew this town was getting dangerous, I should have been with her!”

            “No it wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have known.”  Miller said slowly, her arms folding over her stomach.  Hardy looked over at her for a moment and said abruptly.

            “I think that is enough for now, we’ll keep you updated as the enquiry develops.”

            “Yeah, thank you.”  Rick said.

            “Goodbye.”  Hardy said and left with Miller, leaving the family to their grief.

            “Are you okay Miller?”  Hardy asked.

            “I know what you’re going to say, that it wasn’t my fault, that I couldn’t have known, that everything is going to be fine!  Well it isn’t, nothing is going to be fine, nothing will ever be fine!”  Miller ranted.

            “I was going to ask if you would call SOCO to come and go through their house, and make sure Rick Pacardio comes to make an identification of the body.”  Hardy said simply.

            “Oh.  You think the husband did it then?”  Miller asked as she wiped at her eyes inconspicuously.

            “They usually do, but we should at least keep an eye on him.”  He said as he went to his car.

            “Right.  Are you calling it a night then, Sir?”  Miller asked.

            “Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow, catch a ride with a PC back to your car.”  Hardy said.

            “Yes, sir.”  Miller responded, used to be stranded by her Boss.

            “And Miller, you are going to be alright.”  Hardy added over his shoulder.  Miller looked after him gratefully, as he went into his car.  He drove home to his hotel and picked up a takeaway from the curry place across the way.  He ate it alone in his room.  His heart ached as he lay back on his bed, downing a couple of pills from the end table.  He turned on his side, worrying about the case, about Miller, about his daughter, and about himself.  He turned off the light, clutched his heart, and tried to sleep.

 


	6. Cats Out Of The Bag

Day 6

 

            _Alec walked on water.  He knew that was strange in itself; he didn’t like being on the water.  He shrugged and walked onwards towards the beach, yet it didn’t seem to be coming closer.  He began to run, and still the land stayed far in the distance the blue of the sea surrounding him.  He stopped suddenly and looked down at his bare feet.  He saw her then.  She floated beneath the surface underneath him, like a mermaid, her sandy hair flowing freely around her face.  She stared up at him with undisguised reproach in her brown eyes.  He trembled as she reached through the surface to pull him beneath the waves._

Sometimes Alec Hardy enjoyed waking up, if only to avoid his dreams.  Sleeping was overrated, if anything he was more tired now than when he had first laid down.  Hardy picked up his mobile to see if anyone had left a message.  Of course no one had.  He wondered if Dawn had bothered to give Melody his message.  He rubbed his face and had a quick cold shower to wake up. 

>>><<< 

 

            Ellie Miller woke to the sound of her son crying.  She ran to his room and saw him sitting on his bed, crying into his hands.  “Tom, what is it?”

            “I don’t have to see _him_ tomorrow, do I?”  She was surprised he even knew that she was going to go see Joe tomorrow.  She hadn’t mentioned it to him, he must have overheard her talking with Lucy.  She hated seeing the sadness in his eyes.

            “No, of course not.”  Saying the only thing she could.  He picked up his head and looked at her with tearing eyes.

            “The guys at school, they don’t talk to me, because of _him_.”  Tom said forlornly.  Ellie wrapped her arms around her son, squeezing him reassuringly.

            “Its alright Tom, it’ll get better.” She said fiercely in his ear. 

            “It will?”  He asked the inside of her arm.  She pulled him back from her and looked him in the eye.

            “Yes, it will, I’ll make certain it will.”  She said.

            “I want to go back home.”  He said.  She wasn’t surprised; it was a change to be away from their familiar home for so long, their familiar everything. 

            “I know sweetie, I’m going to get us a new home, a better home, you’ll see.”  Ellie said.  A twinkle began to reassert itself in her son’s eyes as he asked. 

            “Can I have a basketball court?”  Ellie smiled and hugged him again.  She’d give Tom and Fred the world if they asked.

            “I’ll make that a requirement!”  She said.  Tom smiled gladly.

            “And an XBOX One?”  He added tentatively, a smirk on his face.  She pushed him away playfully.

            “Don’t push your luck bucko!  Now why don’t you get ready for school?”  She asked.  Tom began to get out his clothes for school.

            “Ok, mum!”  He agreed.  Ellie Miller left the room and got ready to go to work.  Her smile faded when she left her son’s room.  She hoped she hadn’t lied to him about things getting better.  She herself dreaded seeing her husband Joe tomorrow.  He had called her repeatedly to talk, but she had refused.  But now she had to see him, had to know, and she balked at the thought of even seeing him again.  The last time she had seen him she had beaten him, and might very well have continued beating him till death if Hardy hadn’t stopped her.  She was tempted to ask Hardy to come with her for moral support, but he had plenty of his own problems, including the current enquiry, and he might say no.  She’d have asked her used to be best friend Beth to come with her, but she couldn’t for obvious reasons.  Ellie shook her head, straightened her shoulders, and went to work.

>>><<< 

 

            Brian Young stood over the body of the dead, dissected wolfhound that lay on his metal exam table.  He faced Hardy and Miller across the table.  Hardy lent over a tray looking at what lay upon it.  “It’s hard to believe that that was in its stomach!  How did you know to look there?”  The tray held the undigested wet remains of a mobile phone.

            “Lucky guess.”  Hardy said wiry, with a glance at Miller. 

            “Do you think we can get any information off it?”  Miller asked.

            “I’m sure we can Ellie!”  Brian said optimistically. 

            “I know a guy who can read the drive off anything.  I’ll send it over to him.”  Hardy said using what tact he had by not mentioning that it was the same guy he’d used to find out information on Miller’s son’s laptop, during the Latimer case.

            “Thank you, Brian.”  Ellie said as they were leaving.

            “Anytime Ellie.  Why don’t you come visit me sometime, its always quiet down here?”  Brian asked.  Miller looked at the various drawers with stiffs in them.

            “I’m sure it is, but I’ve got a lot on my mind at the moment.”  Miller said, which was true.

            “Good for you, Miller.”  Hardy said within Brian’s hearing as they closed the door behind them.  Miller thought now might be a good time to ask him if he would come with her to see her husband tomorrow.

            “Er, Hardy? I wanted to know if-“  She began to ask when Collins came down the stairs hurriedly, almost colliding with them.

            “Sir!  There’s been another!”  He yelled at Hardy while breathing hard.

            “Another?”  Hardy asked, staring back at him unperturbed.

            “Another murder!”  Collins explained.

            “Shit.”  Hardy said succinctly. 

>>><<< 

 

            “And now a cat!  What is with this freak?”  The team stood on the pier wearing their plastics.  Hardy had refused the beard net.  They were looking at the scene of a dead young woman, seated on a bench, petting a dead cat.  The corpse’s pale eyes stared sightlessly down at the cat in its lap. 

            “Hell if I know.”  Hardy said, reassuring nobody. 

            “At least he left the entire body this time.”  Miller said.  She felt a sense of deja vous as she stared at the poor dead woman.  It took her a full minute to realize that the bench the body was sitting on was the exact one that she and Hardy had been on, only a few days ago, before all of this began.  She gave Hardy a sidled glance, wondering if he was thinking the same things as her.

            “Hmm.”  Hardy agreed.  Brian Young looked up from his examination of the woman.

            “Are no pet owners safe?”  Brian asked.  Miller looked at him incredulously.

            “You do know that that dog wasn’t Mary Pacardio’s?”  She asked.

            “It wasn’t?”  He replied.

            “No.”  Miller stated.

            “So this guy takes these people kills them, takes some animals kills them and then puts them together in these strange tableaus?”  Bob Daniel piped up from the perimeter he was setting up.

            “Apparently.”  Hardy said.

            “That’s pretty sick, even you have got to admit that’s sick.”  Miller said, with a disgusted look on her face.

            “That’s sick.”  Hardy said simply.  The corpse’s bent head hid the slit throat that had probably been the cause of death.  Hardy couldn’t help but wonder why this was happening.  His heart pounded faster than normal but he ignored it, aware of all the eyes on him.

            “But why was this done?”  Young asked, echoing Hardy’s thoughts.

            “That’s what we have to figure out.”  Hardy said.

            “I don’t care if we figure out what the crazy motivation for this is, lets just catch the son of a bitch.”  Miller said angrily, her features tightening.  She was pissed that someone would do something like this in her town, especially so soon after the last murder.  And she would have to meet that last murderer tomorrow.  She squashed down the words reverberating in her head before they began.

            “There goes this year’s best town award.”  DC Frank Childs said callously.

            “Shut it Frank!”  Miller snapped at him. 

            “I’m pretty sure we already lost that one anyways mate.” DC Roy Collins muttered to himself.  Alec Hardy threw his arms down in annoyance.

            “Looks like I’m going to have to ask Jenkinson for more bodies to work this enquiry.  She’s going to love this.”  Hardy said.

            “Do you think we’re going to solve this one Sir?”  Collins asked.

            “Well, we did the last time, so why not this one too?”  Hardy said.

            “Right, Sir.”  Collins replied, not necessarily reassured.

            “Alright, you should know what to do by now, canvas the area, get any witness statements, check CCTV, find out who this girl is…” The constables stared, waiting for him to go on.  Hardy glared.  “Well get on with it!”  He yelled.  The officers scrambled and went about their various jobs.  Miller stayed with him, as per usual.  They both stayed silent and still contemplating the murders, their pasts, and their lives.  The world spun into chaos around them.


End file.
